


Both Intimate and Ultimate

by iofnewt



Category: The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: (not intended to be more than kissing), Brief flashback pertaining to rape, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Accidental Dubcon Touch, Implied/Referenced Dubcon, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Sex Work, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Internalized Acephobia, Issues with boundary setting/saying no and subsequent dubcon, Multi, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, TS typical issues of ownership, TS typical objectification, TS's reality struggles, but its though processes read like internalized acephobia, i'm not specifically writing TS as aspec, sorta?, speaking of which, the intent is more PTSD from past, working title: how do consent when ur Big Trauma'd
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:54:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26098954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iofnewt/pseuds/iofnewt
Summary: A toy does not make decisions. This worries the crew.
Relationships: Ashes O'Reilly/The Toy Soldier, Drumbot Brian/The Toy Soldier, Gunpowder Tim/The Toy Soldier (The Mechanisms), Ivy Alexandria/The Toy Soldier, Jonny d'Ville/The Toy Soldier, Marius von Raum/The Toy Soldier, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Nastya Rasputina & The Toy Soldier, Raphaella la Cognizi/The Toy Soldier, The Toy Soldier/The Mechanisms Ensemble
Comments: 28
Kudos: 146





	Both Intimate and Ultimate

**Author's Note:**

> IMPORTANT: please proceed with extreme caution if you're a mech introject, especially a TS introject. this ends well, but that doesn't mean it won't be incredibly upsetting/triggering, and i do not want you sad, pls read my much more pleasant works they don't get as bad  
> also, if you found this because you read my other works and you're a minor, i mean like i cannot stop you from reading this but i cannot stress how much i do not want to know that you read it, please do not tell me i am begging you
> 
> title from "To Begin With, The Sweet Grass" by mary oliver, please go read it it's so good she's incredible
> 
> CWs in the tags this time; please heed them and proceed with caution, and let me know if i missed anything. tags to be updated as chapters get added. explicit rating is for said future chapters

The Toy Soldier sees itself as “belonging” to the other mechanisms; not as a person belongs to a group, but as a toy belongs to a child, as a book belongs to a library. And possessions, ultimately, don’t get to decide what their owners do with them. So when the Toy Soldier begins to become romantically involved with its shipmates, still belonging to them, it does not expect to be consulted on matters of its body. A child does not ask their toy whether or not it would like to attend a tea party, or be snotted on and dragged about. A librarian does not consult with each book before shelving it, nor do the patrons ask for permission before leafing through them and grubbying the pages.

When Tim turns to it while they sit in silence together, and softly asks, “can I kiss you?”, the Toy Soldier hears the question just the same as “can you hold this?” during practice, or “could you pass the butter?” during breakfast. It answers accordingly, with a smile and a cheery “Of course, old chap!”

And if it pointedly doesn’t give any thought to the softness of Tim’s lips and the slight wrongness that twinges each time he moves his hand and asks “is this alright?”, well. The Toy Soldier keeps a great many things hidden, what’s one more?

The wrongness spikes all the more when it is backed against a wall kissing Ashes and they slot a leg between its own. It tries not to react, but Ashes is perceptive. They pull away, and the Toy Soldier makes the herculean effort not to whine and chase after their lips.

“Sorry, should’ve asked first, you alright?” They brush a gentle thumb across the ridge of its cheek.

“O-of course! Did I do something wrong?” The paint of its face is a bit pinker than usual, but it’s doing its best to keep its composure.

More reassuring touches, carefully avoiding anywhere more intimate than its face and hands. “No, not at all, just... You, I mean, you do know you can say no, right? Or ask me to slow down? This is a mutual thing, not just something I’m doing to you.”

The Toy Soldier does not know how to handle that. It is not equipped to comprehend that level of personhood being applied to itself. So it tries to make its smile as chipper as possible, and responds “Of course! You don’t need to go worrying about me so much, I’m just spiffing!”

Ashes doesn’t look convinced, but doesn’t press the issue further. They pull away a bit and take its hand, their other hand still cupping its face.

“How about we go see what Jonny’s up to? I think he got some new fabric at our last stop, so with any luck he’ll be making something fun.”

The Toy Soldier smiles and nods, following alongside Ashes. It resolutely ignores the squiggling sense of wrongness warring with relief somewhere deep in its clockwork.

There aren’t as many kisses after that. It can’t ask for them, of course, a toy does not make demands or have needs to be met. Occasionally, it will find itself staring at Brian’s lips, or touching its own mouth a few times too many while it’s distracted while Raphaella tells it about mitochondria, and then it will be asked if it would _like_ a kiss, and only then can it have kisses. It is not sure if it has done something wrong, or if the many kisses were just an odd phase that Real People went through together, or if they had simply grown bored of it.

It begins finding pamphlets scattered about the ship more often, and tuts quietly to itself. The others were usually much better about returning such things to the library _before_ ivy killed them! It gathers the pamphlets up to return them, idly noticing that they all seem to be on topics like “consent” and “bodily autonomy”. It considers flipping through them, but it already knows how important consent is; Jonny had frequent enough rants (and violent rampages) about the monsters of the universe that it would be hard not to know. As for “bodily autonomy”, well, bodies were more Raphaella’s territory, or Marius’s if they were still alive. They would have been C- the Doctor. They would have been the Doctor’s job, Before, but she was gone now and anyways she didn’t seem to like things like autonomy when she was around. At any rate, “bodily autonomy” sounded more at home in Ivy’s library than in the Toy Soldier’s head. No, it doesn’t think it would find these pamphlets very interesting, so it takes them back to the library with a cheery smile.

“Hello, old bean! I found these littered about, thought you might want them back!” It holds the pile out to Ivy, who just looks bewildered, then disappointed, before taking the pamphlets. The Toy Soldier frowns. “Terribly sorry, should I not have? Is this another information campaign for the crew?”

“No- well,” Ivy sighs. “they were mostly meant for you, I suppose. I rather thought they might help.”

“Awfully kind of you, dear old chap, but entirely unnecessary to be sure! first mate Jonny has taught me _quite_ a lot about the importance of consent, so I’m jolly well versed in the subject! and I’ll admit I don’t know much about ‘bodily autonomy’, but it can’t be all that relevant, my body being what it is!” It lets out a chuckle at the end.

Ivy gives it a doubtful look. “I... I think we, that is, we the crew, need to talk about all of this. With you. I need to talk to Marius first. Sorry, TS.”

She shuffles past it, pamphlets still in hand, leaving it to ponder what it’s done wrong this time.

The Toy Soldier waits by the library for a few hours before deciding to head to the kitchen and make tea for everyone. It supposed that if a difficult conversation was coming, it had best be prepared. These things were much easier with a good cup of tea and one’s favorite biscuit, or so it had been told.

As it rolled out dough for scones, it pondered what the Talk was going to be about. Likely the kissing that had happened with Ashes, where it had done something Wrong. It replayed the events in its mind, trying to find its mistake. Was it the soft noise it made into Ashes’s mouth when they tangled a hand in its hair? Was it the way it had gripped their hip as they kissed up its neck? Was it when they had pressed a strong thigh against it and its hips twitched forward? Or was it a second later, when it had realized more clearly where things were going and frozen for the briefest moment against Ashes’s lips?

The Toy Soldier is no longer making scones. It is far too distracted; staring off into middle distance, a heat between its legs warring with the feeling of ice heavy in its belly. It does not know what to do with either of these feelings, but one of them is considerably more pleasant than the other, so it focuses on that.

If Ashes had wanted to keep going, what would it have done? Whatever they asked, of course, but it wondered what that would be. Maybe they’d want it kneeling, head between their thighs. Maybe they’d have wanted to be more active, and it would have to focus and shift its body to be whatever they wanted, and maybe they would’ve been nice about it so that it could feel good too but maybe they wouldn’t and-

There is a loud creak as the counter dents where the Toy Soldier had been gripping it. It stares for a moment, then shakes itself out of its strange daze. Tea. That is what is important right now. Tea and scones, both of them Normal and comforting.

It sets its thoughts aside and returns to the dough.

The Toy Soldier sets a tray of tea and scones at the large table in the rec room nearest the kitchen. It hopes the others won’t be too long; most of them were _so_ particular about the temperature of their tea. Thankfully, Aurora almost immediately lowers a screen that solves that problem.

**[Would you like me to tell the others to meet you here for tea? They’re all nearby so it should still be hot when they get here.]**

“That would be absolutely spiffing, Ship Aurora! Thanks ever so much!” The Toy Soldier takes a seat, prepares its best cheery smile, and waits.

The crew filters in more or less all together. Each face is unnervingly serious, some even anxious, but that’s nothing a good tea service can’t fix.

“Hello, old chaps! You look to be an awfully glum bunch today!” The Toy Soldier says with a sharp salute.

Tim speaks up, looking rather haunted. “Well, we actually wanted to talk to you-“

“Yes, yes, I know!” The Toy Soldier cuts in, waving a hand dismissively. “I can’t say I know exactly _what_ I’ve done wrong, but I gather it’s likely going to be a rather taxing conversation on all of you, so I thought we ought to have some hot tea and fresh scones before we start!”

Tim’s expression shifts to one of bewilderment bordering on anger. “What _you've_ done? Wh-“

This time it’s Ashes who cuts him off. “That’s a great idea, T. What did you make us today?”

Tim pouts for a moment, but takes his seat all the same.

The Toy Soldier clasps its hands together in delight. “Well! For Ashes I’ve picked a lovely Lapsang Souchong, and the scones are savory with spinach and feta. For Tim I went with a classic Ceylon Black, paired with honey-cinnamon-walnut scones. For Jonny...”

It continues happily down the line of its shipmates, watching some of the tension in their shoulders drain away. It had had plenty of time to learn all of them well. Every cup of tea, every perfectly baked pastry, it chose with care and deliberation. It had heard Marius speak before on the subject of love languages; it hoped this one spoke clearly enough.

The table was quieter than it ought to be as the crew had their tea. The Toy Soldier sipped its own tea (twig kukicha, woody and comforting), having abandoned the pretense of picking at its own juniper-piñon scone. It didn’t feel like pretending to eat right now. It didn’t want to have this conversation. It hoped that maybe if its tea and scones were exactly perfect, the others would cheer up enough to forget whatever it had done wrong, and they could all go back to normal.

Of course, there is no amount of tea and scones that can prevent an inevitable conversation, and the Mechanisms were nothing if not determined. Once everyone has eaten, Jonny speaks up.

“I think we oughtta move this to the nest; this is probably a conversation where we wanna be as comfortable as possible.”

The Toy Soldier places its cup gently back in the saucer, and heads over to the mass of blankets, pillows, and assorted soft items, bordered by beanbags, that served as a cuddle nest, and took up nearly half the room. It flopped down squarely in the middle as the others filtered over. At least it would get some nice cuddles out of this.

Except. Except that as each crew member lays down, none of them are touching the Toy Soldier. They are snuggling off into the corners and sitting in beanbags and _none of them are touching it_. Jonny’s gone so far as to lay half on top of Brian in a way that can _not_ be comfortable, just to ensure a foot of space between himself and the Toy Soldier. It sits up, swallows down the wrenching sadness and dread, and thinks that it had hurt less when he threw it out an airlock.

For a few minutes no one speaks. The roiling feelings within the Toy Soldier build higher and higher until it finally snaps out “Well? What?”, winces, ducks its head, and mumbles “sorry.”

Marius finally breaks the silence. “You don’t have to apologize. None of us want to make you anxious, we’re just... I guess it’s just, it’s a hard conversation, and none of us know quite how to start it.”

“...You could start by telling me what I did wrong.” The Toy Soldier hugs its knees to its chest and Does Not Look at anyone. It can still see Jonny reach for it, only to stop short and be pulled back by Brian, who speaks up next.

“Sweetheart, you haven’t done anything wrong, we’re _worried_ about you. You... you say some things, sometimes, that make us worry that we’re hurting you and you’re not telling us.”

That startles it enough to look over at the metal man. “Of course you’re not hurting me, I can’t feel pain unless I want to. And if I broke, you’d surely be able to tell.”

“He means emotionally,” Ivy pipes up. “Your behavior has indicated that there is an 89% chance that you have experienced some sort of trauma around intimate physical touch, and given your personality and history it is nearly certain that you would not tell us if this is the case, nor would you set proper boundaries. Ow, Raph, rude.”

“Don’t ‘rude’ me, we had a whole plan and you killed the buildup. We were gonna be tactful about it and everything.”

Perched on an armchair and cuddling one of Aurora’s screens, Nastya snorts derisively. “Raphaella, I do not believe for a moment that you could think that anyone in this crew is capable of tact.”

“Ladies, can we stay on topic?” Ashes’s voice is light, but firm. “T, we need to know what you’re actually comfortable with. It- it doesn’t feel great, to realize that your partner doesn’t actually want the things you’ve been doing.”

“Makes ya feel like a fuckin’ monster, more like,” Jonny grumbles.

That statement pushes the Toy Soldier out of its bewildered daze. It jerks over to look at Jonny, reaching for him, before remembering that _he_ didn’t want to touch _it_ , and fluttering its hands nervously.

“Never,” it says, voice tinged with a growing panic. “You could never be that kind of monster, none of you, of course not, you’re all so good and kind and careful. I don’t count and it doesn’t matter what I want since I’m yours, that means you get to decide things, that’s why it’s alright, of course it’s alright.”

Jonny’s sullen look morphs to bafflement, then concern, then baffled concern. “What in the fuck does any of that mean?”

“Jonny!” Raphaella swats at him.

The Toy Soldier shrinks back in on itself, unsure how to explain. It opens and closes its mouth a few times before pretending to take a breath and speaking.

“Well, see, I belong to all of you, right? Partially because Nastya bought me, but mostly... well, I’m not sure, I just know that I do. So when someone owns me,” here it sees several winces and looks of alarm, but soldiers on. “When someone owns me, that means they get to make the decisions. When the widow owned me, she had me take tea and say ‘I love you’ and-“ _A teacup shattering. “It’s alright, dear.” A kiss, the smell of perfume. ”Oh God, darling, there!” Tangled limbs and a horrible weight in its stomach._ “and other things. When I belonged to the Rose Reds they had me sing to orphans and shoot lots of rebels and march very precisely. And when I belonged to Dionysus he had me spend time with all kinds of people and ‘see to their needs’, which usually meant either having sex with them or listening to them cry. And now I belong to all of you, so you get to make the decisions, and that’s what’s _Right_.“

“What, so Nastya bought you and you think that gives us free reign to- to fucking _rape_ you?!” Jonny is sitting up but he might as well be towering over it, all explosive rage and violent energy. “Jesus _Christ_ , what the fuck- who the fuck _taught_ you that? What have people fucking _done_ -“

“Jonny. That. Is. Enough.” Ashes is cold fire and honestly far more terrifying than any living being ought to be. “You apologize to the Toy Soldier _immediately_ for your outburst, or you go out the airlock in pieces and pray we feel like picking you up some time in the next millennium.”

Jonny looks back at the Toy Soldier and the fire dies immediately. Distantly, it realizes that it is wide-eyed and shaking. “Oh, God, T, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean t’ scare ya none, I-I just- I ain’t mad at ya, not a bit, I’m mad at whoever hurt ya so bad they made ya think like that.” He reaches for it, but falters and draws his hand back, looking away. “I just- it just hurts somethin’ awful to know ya still think so little of yerself. I wanna fix it but I’m- I’m all rotten, I just. I’m gonna let the others do the talkin’ fer now but. I’m real sorry.”

Ashes keeps their gaze, cold and hard, trained on Jonny, but gives a brief nod. “TS, you ok to keep going? It sounded like you had a bit more to say before any of us say our piece.”

The Toy Soldier nods, a bit shaken, but better after the apology. “I- yes. Well. I suppose I ought to clarify- well. I never... I never said no, never asked to stop, because that’s not- I didn’t- well. Because I didn’t. So it was consensual. People get _upset_ if you say no, and I didn’t want to upset them! And anyways if they wanted it then it must’ve been the right thing to do. I usually liked it, after all! And when I didn’t, I just had it a bit mixed up is all! And sometimes the things I liked made me feel all squiggly and wrong but the others never said anything so I figured I was just worried about doing it right! Only all of you are just looking more and more worried so now I’m thinking I’m not doing _this_ right either but I just want to be good so you don’t grow bored and get rid of me because this is the longest I’ve belonged to anyone and I really like it here and I like all the hugs and the kissing and I’m not sure if I’m capable of love but if I was I think I would love all of you more than I knew what to do with and I don’t want to leave-“

And suddenly there are bodies pressing all around it. Tim, clutching it tight and crying into its shoulder. Jonny’s arms around its waist. Marius hugging its left arm, Brian holding its right hand. Ivy curled against its legs, Ashes running a gentle hand through its hair, and Raphaella’s wings around them all. Even Nastya has scooted close enough to the pile to place a pinky against its ankle, and one of Aurora’s robotic arms reaches down to rest against its foot.

The Toy Soldier is aware that it is crying, painted-on tears flowing freely down its face to disappear at its chin. For several minutes, the room is quiet, aside from gentle reassurances and sounds of crying.

The first to speak is, once again, Marius, voice thick with emotion.

“Ok, so, we... we need to talk, thoroughly, about a lot of very concerning things you just said, but first I need you to know that we are _not_ getting rid of you. We all love you _so much_ , even if we’re not all great about saying it. You’re- you’re so important. So important to all of us. I- I don’t really um. I think if anything happened to you, if something took- took you away forever, I’d probably just throw myself into a star and wait for my mechanism to give up. But uh. Anyways. The only reason we stopped with all the hugs and kisses and touch is because we were worried you didn’t want it and you just weren’t telling us. That’s why we still would when you asked! Um. Somebody else needs to start talking because I’m crying a lot now and it’s gonna get really ugly and completely incomprehensible if I keep going.”

The Toy Soldier sits a little straighter. “So if I want things, I can just ask?”

Raphaella presses a kiss to the top of its head, and it can feel her smiling into its hair. “Yes, _Snoepje_ , that’s exactly it. We can come back to that, once we talk about the other things you said, but if you want anything, all you have to do is ask. Sometimes the answer might be no, but that does not mean we love you any less.”

Ashes rests their forehead against its. There is a brief moment of silence before it works up the courage to ask, “may I please have a kiss?”

Ashes smiles for the first time since the conversation began, and kisses it so sweetly it thinks it might melt. But when it expects them to deepen the kiss, they pull away.

“There’ll be plenty of time for kisses later, but there’s still more to talk about. Are you alright to keep going?”

The Toy Soldier hesitates before nodding. “Yes, just- please don’t let go again?”

Every arm around it tightens, and Nastya shifts so her legs lay across its ankles.

“No one’s letting go, love,” Tim says softly. “Not now. We’ve got you.” A beat, and then: “First and foremost, I think, is that none of us want to do anything you don’t want to. If we’re kissing, or- or anything else, and you want to stop, tell us, because we will want to stop too. If you want to slow down, we want to slow down for you. Make sense?”

It nods slowly. Not disagreeing, just processing.

“Perfect, so perfect. Do you need a moment to sit with that? Or need me to clarify anything?”

It thinks for a moment, unsure. “If I...” It is fairly certain this question is a bad idea, but, Marius did _just_ say they’re not getting rid of it, so... “If I maybe. When we’re kissing, or cuddling. Could I. If I wanted to do. Something else. Would it be alright if I asked for that?”

Tim frowns, confused. “Like, if you wanted to stop kissing and do something like talk, or play cards, or anything?”

“N-no. Rather. If I, um.” It pretends to take a breath, squeezes its eyes shut, and as quickly as it can manage, blurts out “If I wanted to have sex with any of you could I maybe possibly ask for that.”

It does not miss the multiple hitched breaths throughout the cuddle pile, nor the moment of stunned silence that follows. Just as it is about to begin apologizing as hard as it can, Ashes cups its cheek and softly, so softly, asks. “Do you want that? For yourself? If you’re asking because you think we want to, and because you think you need to do what we want, well, just. Please don’t. But if this is something that _you_ want, something that’ll make _you_ feel good, then of course you can ask. But I need- we _all_ need to know: _Do you want it?_ ”

“I,” it hesitates, voice wobbling. “I don’t know. I don’t know. I’ve never- it wasn’t up to me, even when they asked, I don’t _know_ , but I- I- I want to t-try, I think? It. I think about it, sometimes, I- I want. I don’t know.”

“Alright, that’s alright.” Ashes strokes its cheek, a grounding touch. “You don’t have to know all at once. If you want to try... I mean, sex, or anything else, then as long as you want it _for yourself_ , you can always ask. And we can take it slow, and figure out what feels alright. You just need to promise to tell us as soon as you feel uncomfortable, or want to stop or slow down. Alright?”

It nods furiously, nearly crying again from the overwhelming relief of the answer.

“Are you alright to keep talking?”

“Ye- um. No. No, I rather think I’m not, not for right now.”

Impossibly, the cuddle pile gets tighter, more joyous. Ashes breaks out in the biggest smile the Toy Soldier has seen them wear in weeks, and cups its face in their hands.

“Good, good, that’s so good, thank you so much for saying so. I love you, you know that? So much.”

And there is a chorus of “love you”s from assorted points in the cuddle pile, and suddenly the Toy Soldier is crying again, a watery grin painting across its face. It hugs and kisses everyone it can reach, and eventually, when they’ve all hugged and kissed and cried themselves out, the Mechanisms sleep peacefully in each others’ arms.

**Author's Note:**

> BIG THANK YOU to epicmusic42 for helping me with tags!!! i have brain don't work disease and Would Not have been able to adequately tag this without cer help  
> also biggest thank you to Hellfire98 for fucking letting me just write this whole fic in its DMs and just generally putting up with my angsty TS nonsense, and my garden variety nonsense
> 
> anyways Assorted Notes, in no particular order:  
> 1) everyone except Nastya is in on this polycule. she might be qpps with some of the others but i'm not sure yet  
> 2) "Snoepje" is, according to google, a dutch term of endearment meaning "little candy". i think that is Supremely Cute.  
> 3) not sure if this is clear enough in the text but the scene with ashes is as far as any of them have gone with TS by the end of this chapter; the sort of "fade to black" of the scene with tim is just some tame kissing  
> 4) i did not intentionally write TS as aspec in this but then wren pointed out the internalized acephobia thing and???? maybe???? i'm probably not gonna clarify so, Projectable TS Rights  
> 5) i want to make it clear that TS is not /necessarily/ Not Into what's happening in these scenes; i tried to convey that in the text, but it's more just uncomfortable because it doesn't think it has a choice, and it's scared of where those things will lead.  
> 6) uhhhhh idk i'm tired of this not being posted yet i'm gonna post it rn and probably come back and edit these notes later bye


End file.
